


Yule

by Desirae



Series: Wheel of the Year (A Wiccan Cas Verse) [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Detective Dean Winchester, Domestic, Fluff, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Porn with Feelings, Psychic Castiel, Rimming, Top Castiel, Wiccan Castiel, Winter Solstice, Yule, holiday fic, so much love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-23 16:27:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13194000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desirae/pseuds/Desirae
Summary: Dean noticed, now that he was closer, that there were decorations on the Dogwood tree. Popcorn and cranberry strung along the branches, along with pinwheels of orange, that even now, birds were feasting on.  And something else, hanging lower than the other ornaments."Are those...are those carrots?"Dean returns home after shift, and joins Castiel in his Yule celebration.





	Yule

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays, my fellow Destiel fanatics. I hope you enjoy this latest installment.  
> Thank you, to my teapot, Bekki, for giving this a read through. As per usual, all rituals are from my own book of shadows.  
> Blessed be:)0(

                                                                                                                 

Dean got out of the car and shut the door behind him. Good lord, he was happy to be home. Ready to shake off the sadness that often accompanied his work and bask in the feeling of tranquility and love that always enveloped him the moment he walked through the door and into Cas' arms. He leaned against the cooling metal and took stock of the scene in front of him. Dean's breath fogged out in front of him in the cold air as he watched his husband circle the Dogwood tree. Smoke curled up from the tip of an incense stick; cinnamon, he thought, as the scent drifted over, carried by a frigid gust of wind. Castiel weaved his long arms in and out of bare branches, enveloping the tree in fragrant spice.

Castiel didn't acknowledge him. Not out of rudeness, Dean knew, but because his rituals were not a game to him, they were sacred. Dean knew that were he closer, Cas' voice would be a litany of murmured prayers.

Dean tugged his leather jacket tighter around himself as the wind again made it's presence known, sending his body into shivers. Castiel, he could see, was wearing an overly large forest green sweater that Dean was pretty sure belonged to him. Cas had paired his pilfered top with rich brown track pants and bare feet. Dean had to fight with himself to not interrupt his husband to lecture him on the perils of frostbite.

Dean slowly made his way up the driveway. He went around the side of the house and onto the back porch so that he could lean over the railing and watch his husband work his magic in the late afternoon sun. It was just coming on 5pm and would turn dark within the hour.  

Castiel's satchel was on the ground by his feet and Dean watched as he opened it up, pulling out a plaid blanket in red, green and brown. Castiel spread it out at the base of the tree. He reached into the bag again, pulling out two short pillar candles, one in green and one in yellow, and a box of matches. Cas dipped into the bag one more time, hand reappearing with a ziplock bag filled with something that Dean couldn't make out from his vantage point on the deck. Castiel paused, cocking his head, a soft smile stealing across his face as he looked up and locked his gaze on Dean. There was no denying the way Cas’ eyes lit up, nor the fond expression on his striking face. Castiel held out his hand towards him and Dean smiled back as he made his way back down the steps to come stand before his husband. For a brief second, Cas gripped the front of Dean's jacket, a look akin to relief on his face that had Dean concerned, but it was gone so fast, he wondered if he imagined it.

Dean noticed, now that he was closer, that there were decorations on the Dogwood tree. Popcorn and cranberries strung along the branches, with pinwheels of orange, that even now, birds were feasting on.  And something else, hanging lower than the other ornaments.

"Are those...are those carrots?" Dean couldn't stop the whispered question from coming out, but Cas merely kissed his cheek, looking at him as though he found Dean's question endearing, and pressed the ziplock bag into his hands. He glanced down and saw that it was filled with nuts, seeds and chunks of pumpkin. Dean lifted his gaze to Cas', who gestured without words to the ground around the tree. Dean opened up the bag and began sprinkling the ground with the food as Castiel settled down on the blanket in the lotus position. It was quiet, just the sound of their breathing and the treats hitting the frosty floor of the yard.

Dean heard the strike of the match and the burnt scent soon added itself to the cinnamon still lingering in the air. Dean didn't pause in his ministrations as Castiel lit both candles, green to his left, yellow to his right. For a moment, Cas sat, eyes closed as he slowly breathed in and out. Dean finished spreading the seeds, nuts and pumpkin, then not wanting to interrupt, folded the empty bag and shoved it into his back pocket. He stood off to the side, leaning against the tree and watched as the flames danced. How they didn't burn out in the wind, Dean couldn't answer, but the thought was fleeting as Castiel again held out his hand, eyes still closed, facing up. Dean slid his hand across Cas' open palm and laced their fingers together. A gentle tug told him to sit down, so he lowered himself to his knees and sat back on his heels, knowing that were he to try and sit like Cas, there was a good chance of him kicking the candles over and setting the blanket on fire. There was a soft chuckle next to him as though his husband knew exactly what he was thinking. Knowing Castiel, he probably did.

Castiel reached next to him, and picked the lit green candle from the ground. His voice was liquid smoke as he began to speak.

_"As the days grow long and cold_

_We think about the days of old_

_Where families gathered round the hearth_

_To seek warmth on our sleeping earth_

_To the winter goddess bless_

_During this time of needed rest."_

Dean's breath caught as the flame flared up, sending a shiver up his spine. He side-eyed Cas who turned to him, flashing him a quick smile and a wink. Dean swallowed hard, and flexed the hand that was still linked with Cas'. His husband squeezed back gently before letting go to reach for the yellow candle, flame flickering rapidly, but still going strong. Tendrils of warmth curled in Dean's belly as Castiel's rough voice rumbled out again, like sandpaper wrapped in velvet.

_"As the days pass on_

_The sun will burn_

_Until lighter and longer_

_days return_

_Until snow melts_

_And the earth grows warm_

_Then what has passed_

_will be reborn. "_

Castiel bowed his head, again reaching for Dean's hand as though he couldn’t bare there not to be some point of skin on skin contact between them. They sat until sunset turned to early evening, sky now dark, the main source of light coming from the glow of the candles. Dean's ass was numb and his nose felt like it was going to fall off, but Cas seemed impervious to the bitter chill. Dean was willing to bet that Cas’ toes were tiny icicles and hoped his husband didn’t plan on subjecting himself to the harsh weather for much longer, or Dean would have no choice but to intervene.

They sat, hands clasped, under Yule dressed branches, breathing in sharp, crisp air and cinnamon until Castiel raised his head. As his storm-tossed blue eyes opened, the flames of both candles went out with a hiss, as though doused with unseen water.

"Spooky," Dean breathed out and Castiel leveled him with an arched brow and a slight smirk. Dean gathered up the candles and matches and put them into the satchel laying next to him on the ground. Castiel rose fluidly from the blanket, then bent to grasp Dean's forearm and pulled him up. Dean stumbled into the wall of Cas' solid chest, his hands coming out to grip broad shoulders.  Stubbled cheeks begged to be touched and Dean found himself thumbing the five o'clock shadow, as he peered into wide cobalt eyes.

"Hello, Dean, " Castiel grated out, unadulterated love and affection ribboned through the simple greeting, mouth close enough that his breath mingled with his, just before he leaned in to catch Dean's lips with his own, parting and clinging sweetly. Kissing Castiel always felt like coming home. Warm, comforting, but still the feeling of butterflies winging around inside of him, as his heart beat faster with each brush of chapped lips and velvet tongue. Castiel broke away to bare his neck and Dean took the invitation to trail soft, open-mouthed kisses along the skin. Dean breathed in the ever present scent of sandalwood and vanilla before sucking a mark into the spot just below Cas' ear that never failed to make him shudder.

Castiel broke away again, this time to gather up the blanket with one hand; the other tugged Dean by the arm, ensuring he followed his husband into the house. They came in through the kitchen and Dean felt immediately flushed when the warmth from inside washed over him. His nose and ears tingled as he draped his leather jacket over the back of the chair. It smelled like Christmas in the house, though Cas would say it was the scent of Yule. Dean could smell hot apple cider and cloves coming from the crockpot, mixed with pine from the tree in their living room and burning bayberry candle jars burning on the window sills.

Castiel led Dean over to a thick, midnight blue comforter that was spread in front of the fireplace and gestured for him to sit down. He bent to unlace his boots and toed them off, along with his socks, stuffing them inside, before placing them on the mat by the door. Dean watched as Cas picked up a large mason jar that was sitting on the edge of the fireplace. Castiel opened the lid, sprinkling the contents over the fresh log on the grate.

"What is that?" Dean asked, as he crawled onto the blanket. Castiel looked over his shoulder at him.

"It's bits of wood and ash from last year's Yule log. Can you hand me the fireplace matches from the drawer? And the little notebook and pen?"

"Sure," Dean said as he reached into the built in compartment on the coffee table. He handed them off to Cas. Castiel struck the match and it flared up, before tapering down and Dean watched curiously as Cas lit the bits of old wood scattered across the new log.

"It's tradition, among others, Detective, " Cas began as though sensing Dean's questioning eyes on him, "to use the remnants of the previous year's Yule log to light the new one."

"Any particular reason?" Dean asked as the wood began to crackle. Cas turned back towards him, scooting forward until they both sat, knees touching knees.

"Well, partly to burn away any negative remnants from the year before, and partly for good luck in the new year. Yule rituals are similar to those you've seen me perform on a New Moon. Letting go of the past, looking forward to the future, " Cas reached a hand out to card through Dean's hair, something he did just because he liked too, and it always made Dean feel warm inside. "Some people make a wish and light a candle from the flames."

"Is that something you do?" Dean queried and Castiel's mouth quirked in a half smile.

"I did. I don't need to anymore."

Dean's brows winged up. "Why is that?"

Castiel looped his arms around Dean's neck and nuzzled his bristled cheek against Dean's, the rasping sound deliciously arousing. "Because the last time I did, I wished for you, Detective." Castiel turned his face, their lips a hairsbreadth apart, "and here you are," he whispered before claiming Dean's mouth with his own.

Dean's eyes prickled at that declaration as he sighed into the kiss, glorying in the feeling of Cas' plush, pink lips nudging his own apart. Cas slipped his tongue inside and Dean tasted cinnamon, tart apple and more importantly:home. Kissing Castiel was always a revelation. It was familiar, in the way that they knew where to stroke, where to nip. They knew the right angle to deepen the kiss, where the undaltion of their tongues dancing against each other was the most… satisfying. But kissing Cas was also always exciting; making goosebumps break out over his skin, causing his heart to trip and stumble with every hungry bite of each other's lips. It was nothing short of, well, magical really.

Wordlessly, they undressed each other in front of the fire, barely breaking apart, only to lift one another's shirts over each other’s heads. Once naked, Cas gently pushed Dean down against the comforter, with a hand to his chest. Castiel straddled Dean's hips, and the light from the fire behind him gave him an ethereal glow that stole Dean's breath.

"How are you mine?" Dean murmured softly and Cas tilted his head.

"You say that with such wonder, when I often ask myself the same thing," Castiel's whiskey-soaked voice trembled with emotion. He didn't permit Dean to answer, just fell forward, caging Dean's face with his forearms and taking another kiss, this one rougher, with a hint of desperation. After a sharp nip that drew a little blood, Cas' mouth began to trail a blaze down Dean's neck and over his chest. Castiel's long fingers scratched and gripped at Dean's skin, tugging at his nipples, thumbing his hip bones. He was setting fires dancing across Dean's skin and he felt himself getting swept away by the sensation. When Cas pushed Dean's bow legs apart, he knew to hook his arms under his knees and pull them up to his chest.

Before Cas, Dean would have felt too vulnerable to bare himself so openly. Sex had always quick, perfunctory. A stress reliever at the end of the day, or a particularly hard case. There were no lingering intimate touches. No coming together on such an intense level that he couldn't help but cry from the sheer beauty of it. No, that was all for Castiel. His gorgeous husband who came into his life like a storm and washed him clean.

Castiel, who was smiling wickedly against his pucker, before swirling his tongue around the muscle, fingers holding him open. Dean moaned low in his throat as Cas dipped his tongue inside, spearing into Dean with quick little thrusts, thumbing at his rim, to delve deeper. Dean tried to watch, but seeing Cas' head between his legs made his already rock hard cock pulse almost painfully at the sensual sight. Castiel tongued Dean's hole the way he would his mouth and he couldn't help grinding down on his husband's face. Dean knew the inside of his thighs would have stubble burn in the morning, but he also knew it would be worth it.

Castiel pulled back to grab a bottle of astroglide out of the coffee table drawer and Dean was pleased to see Cas' thick cock flushed pink at the tip and dripping, obviously just as affected, from slowly taking Dean apart. Cas worked Dean open quickly, knowing just where to touch to make him arch and groan. Dean's hands clutched at the blanket as he rode Cas' fingers.

"So beautiful, Dean. You open right up for me."

"M'ready, Cas," Dean panted out. "Please."

Castiel leaned down for a soft kiss before slicking himself up and pushing the head of his cock into Dean's fluttering entrance. Twin sighs echoed in the room as he slid home. Dean's legs locked around Cas, who then began a steady drag and thrust inside of him. The sound of sweat slickened skin on skin was an erotic concerto, and as Cas found the right angle to grind against Dean's prostate, he gave a chorus of " _ah, ah, ah._ "

Cas urged Dean's legs over his shoulders as he leaned forward for more leverage. Cas' thrusts came faster, and sweat dripped down the side of his face. His eyes were dilated, only a thin ring of cobalt shining as Cas pressed his lips to harshly to Dean's.

"I love you," Cas grated against Dean's mouth. Dean scraped his blunt nails down Cas' back as he arched against his husband.

"I love you, too," he said breathlessly. The friction of Cas' dampened skin, rubbing against Dean's cock trapped between their stomachs, had him nearly there, and his body was quivering like a livewire.

Cas gave hard thrusts in rapid succession, turning his face to press an open-mouthed kiss to Dean's thigh.

"So close, so close, so close," was the litany that tumbled out of Dean's mouth.

"Come for me," Cas voice was a rough command and Dean was helpless but to respond, body arching as he erupted, covering his chest and neck with hot, sticky fluid. Dean's hole clenched around Cas' dick as his whole body continued to quake. Castiel groaned at the sight and with a few more hard thrusts, Dean felt him pulse hot inside of him.

Castiel leaned down, arms quivering, to press his forehead to Dean's. "I almost lost you tonight," he said, voice like jagged, broken glass.

Dean eyes opened wide. "How did you- did Benny call you?" he asked, shaken. He hadn't wanted to talk about it. Dean didn't like bringing work home. They had finally closed in on the suspect of the brutal murder of a runaway. They'd found one Thomas Wade holed up in an abandoned barn in Laconia.  He was hyped up on drugs and thought nothing of taking a shot at Dean the moment he stepped through the doors. Luckily, whatever he was on made his aim less than stellar and Dean and Benny were able to take him down fairly quickly. "I told him not to call you."

Cas narrowed his eyes at that, expression tempestuous. "Benny didn't call me, I just..."

 _He just knew._  Cas _always_ just knew.

Dean surged up, wrapping his legs around Cas' waist and fisting his hands in his dark hair, tugging at the perpetually messy locks. "Then you knew that I was going to be fine," Dean said, voice breathy, but aiming for calm and soothing.

"Didn't make it any less scary," Castiel said with a sharpness born of worry.

"I suppose not," Dean conceded.

Cas shifted to wrap his own legs around Dean and for awhile they embraced like that, grateful for the heat of fire as their skin cooled down.

"What's the notebook for?" Dean murmured into the skin of Cas' shoulder, breaking the silence.

Castiel drew back with a grin, allowing for the subject change. "A list."

"A list, huh?"

"Mm-hmm. A list of what we wish for the new year. We write down our wishes and place them in the fire, so it's just between us, and the God and Goddess."

"Sunshine,” Dean said earnestly, palming Cas’ face, “as long as I still have you, every year to come, then all of my wishes will have come true."

Castiel kissed him gently. "Mine too, Detective."

The End


End file.
